


Pretty Squiddy

by Anonymous



Series: Tentacular Temptation Series [4]
Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Romantic Comedy Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: To stop his mother from setting him up with guys, Squidward tells her that he already has a boyfriend - SpongeBob. But this is definitely not one of those romantic comedies where they have to fake their relationship until they really develop feelings for each other.
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/Squidward Tentacles
Series: Tentacular Temptation Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956436
Comments: 19
Kudos: 196
Collections: Anonymous





	1. My Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squidward is gay and stupid and emotionally constipated. Enjoy.

“Yes, Mama, I got them this morning. They go really well with the dining table.” Squidward’s mother had sent him some handmade doilies in the mail and he was now calling her back to thank her. It was a nice gesture, so he wasn’t going to tell her about how he didn’t order things by mail anymore because he was trying to avoid the mailman. Their encounter this morning had been troublingly awkward and Squidward had phased out of existence for a moment when they had accidentally brushed hands as he’d grabbed the package.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat in front of Squidward. It was a customer. Squidward put his hand over the receiver of his shell phone.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to have a conversation.” The fish walked away grumbling. _The height of rudeness_ , Squidward thought.

When Squidward started listening to his mother again, she had moved on to her favorite topic already – setting her Squiddy up with one of her “young friends”.

“Sorry, Mama, I know he’s very nice and that we like the same music and all.”

That was a lie, actually. He had given up explaining the difference between the virtuoso Kelpy G and that country hack Kelpy Rogers a long time ago; to his mother they were the same person. But he wasn’t going to find common ground with a guy who listened to Rogers and enjoyed it.

“I won’t be seeing Otto again. I’m already seeing someone else.”

SpongeBob’s work hat slowly emerged behind the kitchen window, then his eyes and nose. _Is he sitting on the grill to eavesdrop?_ Squidward could hear the sizzle of SpongeBob’s knees.

His mother sounded excited about the news. She wanted to meet this someone he was seeing.

“That’s not necessary because you already know him. You…” Squidward sighed, talking through ground teeth, “…adopted him.”

Now SpongeBob’s mouth rose from behind the window as well. He was grinning like a maniac.

“You know you’re on fire, right?” Squidward mentioned to his coworker. SpongeBob looked down – his pants were in flames. “YOOOOOW!” SpongeBob ran in circles through the kitchen, smoke following him, until he landed butt-first in the sink where plates were soaking in soapy water. “Haaaa!” the sponge sighed in relief. Squidward paid him no mind.

“No, Mama, what? Not the pink one! Wait a moment.” He yelled through the kitchen window. “SpongeBob!”

“Yes?” The sponge had recovered but was now sudsy with soap water and only wearing underpants. Squidward sighed and put his phone next to SpongeBob’s face.

“Say hi to Mama.”

“Hello, Mrs Tentacles,” though they were related now for some unholy reason, SpongeBob still referred to Squidward’s mother by her last name. Small victories, Squidward thought. “I mean, Mama!” Nevermind. The sponge had clearly been emboldened by Squidward’s statement that they were a couple now.

Squidward jerked the phone away from his coworker. “Don’t make it weird, SpongeBob.” Then talking to his mother again, “So you see, since you already know each other there is no need to come over and visit me. Bye, Mama, love you, see you next weekend, bye, mwah mwah, byyyeee!” Click.

His phone rang again immediately and Squidward picked it up. His mother probably wanted to chide him for hanging up so suddenly. “Hello?”

“You’re seeing me?” It was SpongeBob’s sing-songy voice on the phone.

“What?”

Squidward turned around and saw SpongeBob, who was calling him from his own shell phone. The sponge’s mouth had disappeared into the receiver and Squidward could feel creepy sponge-breath against his temple. Squidward looked SpongeBob dead in the eyes as he closed his phone and SpongeBob’s mouth snapped back into his face with a satisfying smack. “Ow!”

“I’m not seeing anybody, SpongeBob. I lied to her to get her off my back. You heard her trying to set me up with some dolt, you clearly listened in, which is rude, by the way.”

“Oh.” SpongeBob looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “But now we have to keep playing pretend or she’ll know! I suggest a romantic dinner at the Krusty Krab, just in case she comes over to check on us.”

“First of all, yuck. Secondly, why would my mom come over for a _date_? And lastly, and please get this through your holey head; this is not one of your romantic comedies where the couple pretends to be together in front of the parents until they get together for real.” Squidward swore he had just described every single one of SpongeBob’s favorite movies. “I’m going to tell her the truth next time she calls and asks.”

SpongeBob gasped and blushed. “The truth?”

“Well, not all of it,” and Squidward blushed, too. She didn’t need to know about the small detail that he had taken his coworker ( _and adopted brother_ , Squidward shuddered) to bed in a momentary lapse of judgement. “Just that we’re not together.”

“Excuse me, I would like a krabby patty with kelp-”

Before Squidward could yell at the customer, a krabby patty had already whizzed by his face and into the customer’s mouth, followed by a hail of kelp fries. He turned around and saw SpongeBob had catapulted the items with his spatula. “You can pay later,” the sponge called from the kitchen. “You were saying, Squidward?” Rarely did Squidward see the Krusty Krab Employee Of The Month of two hundred fifty-six consecutive months be this short with a customer. But SpongeBob didn’t appreciate the conversation being cut off, either, specifically the part about Squidward’s and his relationship. Squidward didn’t have anything more to say, though. If he had to write down his relationship status in a public forum for some reason, he’d describe it as “Nope”. Or “It’s Complicated”, at least.

“I wanted to end the call faster so I could get back to reading- I mean working.” Mister Krabs nodded at Squidward silently and his watchful stalk eyes disappeared back into his office. “Which is what I’m going to do right now.” Squidward got his reading material from under the cash register and perused the pages.

He liked looking at the furniture in his interior design magazines, with no intention of getting any of it. He’d selected his decor with much care and he didn’t want to change a thing, thank you very much.

But in the last few weeks he had thought about getting a bigger sofa. SpongeBob had been coming over more often ever since Squidward had started shutting him down only every _other_ time he wanted to hang out. It had been a symptom of Squidward’s newly caught disease called “feeling guilty for being mean to the nicest guy he knew”.

They’d usually watch SpongeBob’s horrible romantic comedies. It was either that or watch _The Adventures of_ _Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy_ , and Squidward would have to take powerful hallucinogens before he could bear sitting through that show. Not wanting to risk running out the house naked in a delirious state - like that one time at that house party when he was younger and there was _something_ in the drinks – he was stuck watching romantic movies with his neighbor with no influence of drugs. In exchange, SpongeBob would watch his soaps with him. And while his sofa was roomy enough for Squidward alone, it could get quite uncomfortable if you were two people spending time there for more than one episode of _As The Tide Turns_.

The other day, SpongeBob had brought a movie that even he must’ve found boring, because instead of laughing and crying – both hysterically - with every scene, his head had fallen against Squidward’s shoulder. Squidward thought the sponge had fallen asleep at first. But SpongeBob’s hand had snuck over to Squidward’s hand and grabbed it, then the sponge had proceeded to fiddle with his suckers. Squidward had looked over at SpongeBob, whose eyes were glued to the television set. Sneaky sponge. He knew that if he looked at the octopus, he might tell him to stop.

SpongeBob’s thumb had pressed into one of his suckers until it grabbed his fingertip and then lifted it again to release, then the next sucker, press and release, and the one after that, all the way down his palm and back up again. _Pop, pop, pop, pop._ It had made Squidward squirm in his seat so much that he’d ended up sliding off the sofa.

Point being the sofa was too narrow! They needed something roomier, to put some distance between each other.

“Don’t you work here?” Another fish stood in front of the cash register, tapping their foot impatiently.

“Only ironically, ma’am.”

“Enough, Mister Squidward!” Mister Krabs emerged from his office. Squidward sighed; their boss was done counting the earning from the previous day, so now it was time to actually get to work. Squidward sighed and picked up his pen and paper. “Welcome to the Krusty Krab may I take your order?”

Mister Krabs nodded approvingly. “And SpongeBob! We don’t give out free meals! Go get the money for the patty and fries.”

“Yes Sir, Mister Krabs, Sir!” SpongeBob saluted by bringing his spatula to his temple, then chased after the customer, still not wearing any pants as they had singed off his body. Usually, Squidward would’ve been annoyed with the sponge’s cheerful demeanor as he dashed out of the kitchen, and irritated with all the noise once SpongeBob tripped, fell over someone (“My leg!”) and bounced through the restaurant, leaving destruction in his wake. But Squidward just smiled, wrote down the order and hanged it in the kitchen window, whilst surrounded by the sounds of explosions and screams somehow caused by his coworker tripping.

 _That SpongeDork is something else_ , he thought as he lay down in the boat and put his magazine over his face.

* * *

“Bye, Squidward!” SpongeBob had accompanied him to his door as usual and was now walking to his own home to go feed Gary. After that he would meet Patrick, then later in the day the sponge would come over to watch movies with Squidward.

Squidward went inside and ascended the stairs to take a quick post-work shower. SpongeBob coming over had been the new routine for a while now, as Squidward had made an effort to include the guy in his life more often outside of work. At the same time, inviting him to come over and stare at the TV was the most effortless way to make an effort. No talking to each other, no looking at each other, just sitting.

But it had made a difference. Life was so much easier when he reminded himself that his annoying neighbors were also his friends. Like right now, he could hear them outside while he lathered up his body and let the water from the shower head trickle down his face. Somehow hearing SpongeBob and Patrick scream up a storm outside bothered him less when he knew how quiet the sponge could be when he leaned his head against his body, how soft his little sponge hand was when he squeezed his tentacle hand.

The thought made Squidward’s third leg from the right stir in its pouch. Maybe it wasn’t going to be that quick of a shower after all.

SpongeBob used to touch and kiss him all the time, and that was years before he had considered him anything more than an acquaintance! But the sponge had been walking on tortoise shells ever since Squidward had suddenly withdrawn from him, as if not to spook the octopus away again. That was fair. Squidward had very melodramatically passed out on SpongeBob’s roof the last time they had tried to talk about feelings. After that SpongeBob had said one nice thing, and Squidward had almost started crying while telling the sponge about his pathetic mating history. It made sense that the sponge would be apprehensive.

The long absence of touch had left Squidward all the more sensitive when SpongeBob had finally grabbed his tentacle and started working the suckers. It had made Squidward want to guide the hand to another set of suckers hidden between his legs; he hadn’t dared, though.

By now his mating arm was fully extended, the water from the shower trickling down the shaft. He took it in hand with practiced ease and started stroking himself.

He wondered if SpongeBob would’ve done that for him, had he been brave enough to ask for it. The only time they’d been together in that way, Squidward had done all the touching and had given the sponge no chance to reciprocate. The octopus liked to think the guy would’ve happily rubbed him off. And in turn, Squidward would’ve reached over and… stuck… his hand…. in SpongeBob’s holes? He still didn’t quite know how sponge anatomy worked. He only knew what they had already done, but this wasn’t supposed to be a fantasy about full penetration and beds. This was about hands and sofas. Casual, noncommittal, no-need-to-talk-about-it-afterwards hands in intimate places. Did the guy have a pouch somewhere, too? A mating arm like an octopus, or a papilla like a fish? Or was he all holes?

All these mental gymnastics made his mating arm droop in his hand. Was it ironic to grow soft thinking about the intimate parts of the guy he was interested in? Squidward sighed and put his unsatisfied member back in its pouch as he exited the shower. He didn’t know if it was ironic, but it certainly was sad when a virile octopus in his prime couldn’t get himself off in the shower.

The sexual frustration had washed away all his charitable feelings towards his loud friends and neighbors. He opened the window to yell at them to keep it down. He saw they were taking pictures with a polaroid camera Patrick had around his neck. How did they manage to make taking pictures this loud? “And SpongeBob,” he berated. “Weren’t you supposed to get the movies from the rental store?”

“Aye, aye, Squidward! I’ll just go get money,” he replied as happy as ever, not at all offended by Squidward’s tone, and skipped back home. _He’s so eager to do what I tell him,_ Squidward thought and imagined SpongeBob showing the same level of enthusiasm had he asked him to bring him off _._

“Hey, Squidward!”

“What is it Patrick?” Squidward yelled back.

“If you want to just watch movies you should probably put your dick away!”

He yelled it so loud that SpongeBob opened his front door to sneak a peek. Squidward looked down and sure enough – his mating arm had quickly regained interest. Before Squidward could say anything, he heard the flash of a polaroid camera. He looked at Patrick, who was holding the camera lens in his direction, staring at Squidward blankly. Then a polaroid shot out of camera slot.

“Gah!” He didn’t know what to yell at Patrick and shut his curtains instead. The last thing he heard of the two before he stormed back into his bedroom was SpongeBob’s voice.

“Can I see?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third leg from the right is where male octopuses have their mating organ.
> 
> Comment if you liked it!


	2. My Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty Squiddy gets to know his sponge a little better after an unplanned visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did nobody tell me I put "SB" instead of "SpongeBob" in the last chapter? I hope that didn't happen again here.

Once Squidward’s mating arm calmed down again, so did Squidward himself. He couldn’t be mad all the time, and his doctor had agreed. _Think of your ink pressure, Squiddy…_

He lay on his bed and dozed in and out of sleep for a while – he was always so exhausted after work. Better nap now than fall asleep later in the middle of the movie, when SpongeBob maybe tried to grab his tentacle again. He wanted to be alert if that happened.

When he opened his eyes again it was already twilight. _Where did the time go?_ He got up with a sigh and left his bathrobe on the bed as he looked through his closet. It would be easiest to put on one of his polo shirts and be done with it. But looking through his outfits was one of Squidward’s favorite pastimes.

Squidward could put on his turtleneck if it got cold tonight. Then during the movie, SpongeBob could cuddle up to him and warm up. The thought made Squidward warm up himself.

If he got too warm, he could wear this black robe. He picked it up and held it against the dwindling light outside. It was so sheer he could see right through it. If he were to wear that, SpongeBob would be able to see everything. _Maybe that’s not a bad thing,_ Squidward thought.

A sudden flashback to his encounter with the mailman made him drop the robe like it was made of sea spiders. “Ugh!” He was about to fall back into his old habits. _I can’t seduce SpongeBob because I don’t want to watch boring movies with him!_

He used to do that when Squilliam would play him his opera albums. On the outside Squidward had to pretend he liked it – he was no philistine! But in reality he would never make it past the first act of the unintelligible German yelling of _Undine_. He would slide his tentacle down Squilliam’s front and urge him to turn off the music every time.

Turtleneck it is.

Just as he was about to put it on, he heard the door open downstairs. _SpongeBob’s already here? Did I nap that long?_

Suddenly, a yellow blur whizzed by him and into the closet. The blur then surrounded him, and suddenly there was something over his head. He couldn’t see as he was picked up and carried down the stairs. _Am I being kidnapped!?_

When he was sat down, two hands pulled down the fabric that was obscuring his vision. It was SpongeBob, of course, who was now putting one of Squidward’s wigs, the blond one, on the octopus’ head.

 _What?_ He looked down at himself searching for answers. He was wearing a pink dress, one that came out of his own closet. This explained nothing. _What?_

“What-”

“MyparentsthinkIhaveagirlfriendandarecomingovernowtomeetherandyepheretheyare-” Squidward didn’t understand a word the sponge was saying, then the doorbell rang.

“Who- wait, you said something about your parents?”

But SpongeBob had already opened the front door.

“Mom, Dad!” He said cheerily as he took his parents coats. As soon as they went past him and into the living room, the sponge threw the coats into a corner and put his hands on his knees, gasping for air. He’d been running from his house up Squidward’s stairs and back down in the span of about five seconds.

“What a beautiful home you have!” Mrs. SquarePants said. Squidward still didn’t know where he was and how and why. He kind of remembered these two middle-aged sponges' faces, and he knew now they were “Mom” and “Dad”. He took some cues from his outfit and put on a sweet, high-pitched voice.

“Why, thank you so much, I’m sure.” SpongeBob promptly joined his side, hiding his shallow breaths.

“Mom, Dad, meet the _girlfriend_ I’ve been telling you about.” He emphasized the word “girlfriend” so that Squidward would get the hint.

Right. So instead of watching romantic comedies, SpongeBob wanted to live in one, and had orchestrated an awkward encounter with his parents. _Fish the ink pressure_ , Squidward thought. _This is a legitimate reason to be angry._

“This is Squidoris.”

 _Squidoris!?_ Now SpongeBob was adding insult to injury. That was a name for octopus grandmas, not pretty girlfriends in pink dresses. _How old does he think I am?_

“Oh, like the famous actress? She’s grandma’s favorite from when she was a kid, remember, son?” _Grandma’s favorite? Thanks, Sponge._

“Hah, yes. I didn’t think about that…. what a coincidence!” SpongeBob looked flustered and Squidward smirked. The sponge had just said the first female octopus name that he could think of – probably _because_ he heard that name from his grandma - and had almost given away the ruse. Well, Squidward was going to have fun with it.

“Not a coincidence at all, my dear Mrs. SquarePants. I was named after her. Wasn’t I, dear?” He looked at SpongeBob as if to say _I was named after her by you, just now, you lying little piece of fish._ SpongeBob looked ready to melt into the floor. “In fact I’m in the arts as well.”

“Oh my, that’s amazing! Son, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I-I…” SpongeBob looked like a hook had just lodged in his butt.

“He respects my privacy, is all,” said Squidward. He kept his gaze on SpongeBob when he said in a sing-songy voice, “He knows I like to keep things quiet around here. He’s the kind of sponge who would never just barge in and take over my plans for the night to suit his ill-judged ideas.” He smiled at SpongeBob, whose mouth had dried up in shame, and whose eyes had turned into black spheres. He looked like he was about to either pass out or pass on.

“We have raised a very polite boy. Haven’t we, Howard?” The woman gave her husband a slight kick in the leg when he didn’t answer right away.

“Hm. Yes,” a mumble came from under the mustache. _Well, the dad’s the life of the party_ , Squidward thought.

Mrs. SquarePants paused like she hoped there would be more participation from her husband, but it didn’t happen, and her son had seemingly turned into stone, so she tried to keep the conversation alive.

“So, you say you’re in the arts? Have we seen you in a movie or something?”

“NO!” SpongeBob yelled, suddenly awoken from his petrified state. “She’s got a… job where you’d never see her. Really boring, not worth talking about.”

“SpongeBob! We just talked about how polite you were, and now this is how you behave?”

“It’s alright, Mrs. SquarePants… may I call you Mom?”

“Er, oh… I guess?”

SpongeBob looked at Squidward disapprovingly. They proceeded to have a whole conversation with their eyes and eyebrows.

_Squidward, don’t!_

_What? You called my mother “Mama”, remember?_

_Why are you doing this to me?_

_I should ask you that question._

_Please… Squidward…_

Squidward was still mad at SpongeBob for saddling him with a forced meeting with his parents. But his friends’ eyes were so pleading… there was something desperate there. It made Squidward question his assumptions. Maybe SpongeBob hadn’t invited his parents to fulfill his “romantic comedy” dreams. _Then why are they in my house?_ It suddenly felt wrong to tease SpongeBob any further, at least until he had all the facts.

“Or… we could be on first names.”

SpongeBob’s mom seemed to also be happier with that. “Right! It’s Maggie.”

“Maggie, wonderful,” Squidward repeated. “Don’t be mad at SpongeBob. He just doesn’t want to brag about my accomplishments. And it’s true, you probably haven’t seen my work. I dabble more in the avant-garde. Please, come with me.”

When he had walked the porifera family upstairs to the gallery room, he had no plans to torture SpongeBob any further. Scouts honor! He was hoping to show them the gallery, then promptly go back to the living room, have a cup of tea, and have them out the door in an hour, at the most. After they’d leave, Squidward would ask SpongeBob what in the world was going on.

He realized his mistake when he opened the door to the gallery and saw SpongeBob’s face change into a horrified grimace.

 _Oh, carp, that’s right._ Squidward had completely forgotten about the subject of all his paintings. Or rather, it had become so normal to him to see his gallery full of self-portraits, it didn’t occur to him how questionable they would look while pretending to be a female octopus. And SpongeBob’s girlfriend.

The parents looked around curiously. “My, that is… it’s quite… what is it?” Mrs. SquarePants leaned in closer to get a better look at one of his portraits. It was a nude, too.

SpongeBob swiftly stepped between her and the painting and stretched himself as big as the canvas to conceal it before she could see Squidward’s tentacle in the picture. “It’s paintings! You know, paintings of octopuses. Squidoris is very proud of her heritage. It’s the subject of all her art.”

“Oh! Well, isn’t that nice, Harold.”

“Uh-huh.”

When their backs were again turned to SpongeBob, Squidward could see his friend swipe the nervous sweat from his brow as he went “Phew!”, crisis averted.

“So, you did these with live models, Squidoris?” Mrs. SquarePants asked. Squidward just nodded, not really listening, as he was scanning the room for more tentacles that had to be concealed. Where buttcracks safe for parents? He watched SpongeBob get Squidward’s paint. Oh no, if the sponge thought he could just paint over his art…

“And what is it you do now?” Mrs. SquarePants asked.

“What do you mean?” Squidward was confused by the question. Maybe he had missed a sentence.

“Well, you can’t possibly be painting squids anymore. Not when you’re with my son.”

“Mom…” SpongeBob said, then turned to Squidward to say something, but the octopus didn’t want to hear it. _Did that lady just say squid?_

“And why can’t I?” he inquired, arms crossed. He was getting peeved, even though the whole conceit was made up. He was his own model after all.

“Well, you know. It’s not appropriate to paint live models when you have a partner. You wouldn’t want a gentleman over at your house when my son is at work. For your own safety as well! You probably know better than anybody what they say about male cephalopods.” She looked at her husband, who had a retort at the ready.

“They’re all hands.” Both parents had grown extra arms and were wiggling them around like their best interpretation of tentacles getting frisky. They giggled like they’d just told a funny joke.

Squidward was shocked into silence. It wasn’t the first time he had heard that joke, but he hadn’t expected to hear it today, in his own house, from two middle-aged sponges.

People who knew nothing of cephalopods would often accuse them of thinking with their reproductive organs. Which was a gross reinterpretation of biological fact – yes, octopuses had a brain in each arm, including their mating arm. That didn’t mean they couldn’t control themselves. If anything, the opposite was true! There was a reason so many world-renowned dancers where octopuses.

What really rocked Squidward’s boat was the fact that he _was_ an octopus who had issues with sex, and those issues had only recently caused SpongeBob heartbreak. The sponge’s parents didn’t know that, but were telling him, unwittingly, that that’s just in his octopus nature. _Or squid nature, as they would say._ According to Mister and Mrs. SquarePants, he was just “all hands”, nothing else.

Squidward went pale. Is _that_ why SpongeBob had put him in a dress?

“Mom, Dad, you know I don’t like that joke…”, SpongeBob said, while at the same time drawing a pair of underpants on one of Squidward’s self-portraits.

“Sorry, honey!” his mother said casually. “In any case, we are grateful that our son found someone who also appreciates peace and quiet. Us sponges are known for enjoying a sedentary lifestyle.”

“You are?” Squidward asked, his voice flat and not at all sing-songy. He was done pretending – why should he? “Are you sure he’s your son, then?”

“Squidward!” SpongeBob yelled.

He probably wanted to stop the octopus from talking in his usual, sarcastic tone, so as not to give away the ruse. In doing so he’d let slip his real name.

“Squidward?” Mister and Mrs. SquarePants asked in unison.

Squidward looked over at SpongeBob; his blue eyes wide, his skin pale, his little hands covering his mouth, motionless. Did Squidward want to let the boy suffer the consequences of his actions?

Absolutely. But he wanted these people out of his house more.

“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me, dear! My brother Squidward is on his way here, so you two should really get going before things get dangerous. You know, all hands and so forth?” He ushered the couple out of the gallery room down the stairs. While walking on two legs, he picked their coats up off the floor with the other two, arms occupied with opening the front door and guiding the couple out. _That’s right, nine brains._ He saw an unfamiliar car in the dark driveway and opened the door for the lady, then shoving the gentleman through the window into the driver’s seat. He then threw the coats in the back of the car. “You’ll get a card from us on major holidays. Bye!” He reached into the car to turn the key in the ignition and pushed the car onto the road.

Once he was sure he couldn’t see the car on the horizon anymore, he walked back inside, one strap of the dress hanging down his shoulder, and he was absolutely fuming with rage. This was not a good day for his and SpongeBob’s friendship, and it wasn’t his own fault this time.

“WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT!?” Squidward screamed at SpongeBob who had also made it down to the living room. He was ready to curse out the little guy. “Was that your attempt at playing romantic comedy? Because it felt like a horror show.”

The sponge said absolutely nothing as tears filled his eyes. He just ran up the stairs and Squidward heard the bedroom door close.

Squidward sighed. He felt a pressure headache coming on. “You have your own bedroom to sulk in, you know?” He looked behind himself; he realized he'd stood between SpongeBob and the door, and the sponge had probably been too scared to run that way. The octopus walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. Nobody there. Ah, but he heard sniffling from the closet. He opened the closet door and was hit by a flood of tears, washing him all the way to the other side of the room with a _WHOOOSH_.

He got up undeterred and wrung out his dress. Looking over he saw SpongeBob ugly-cry; the whole deal with snotty nose and drool, gasps for air and hiccups. It was hard for Squidward to keep his anger intact when he looked at SpongeBob crying like that.

“Hey. It’s okay, okay? Sponge?”

“I can’t believe they said that thing about being all hands…” SpongeBob said between hiccups.

Aha, so it had been a scary movie for SpongeBob, too.

“They don’t know any better, okay? That’s what happens when you only live among your own kind. Octopuses also develop some strange opinions about other sea creatures when they’re on their own, trust me!”

SpongeBob sniffed. “Yeah?”

“Neptune be my witness.” He’d heard a lot of awful talk when he’d briefly lived in a gated octopus community. It was one of the many things that had made him want to return to Bikini Bottom.

“Just because they don’t know what they’re talking about that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it, okay?” He couldn’t handle it, in fact it made him reflect on his faults in ways that were going to make his therapist rich. But he was going to make SpongeBob drown in his own tears if he admitted that.

“Okay.” SpongeBob still looked concerned. Squidward sat down next to him, on the damp carpet in the closet. Time to figure out what was going on.

“Is that why I’m wearing a dress? Cos male octopuses are scary?”

“I didn’t even know they would bring that up! You have to believe me, Squidward!” SpongeBob was absolutely panicked. Like he was afraid he was about to lose a friend. The octopus regretted having yelled at him more and more.

“I believe you! Geez. Let me guess,” he tried to remember all the ridiculous clichés he had seen in SpongeBob’s favorite movies. “I needed to wear a disguise because they would have recognized me. From your birthday party.” Squidward kind of remembered that SpongeBob’s parents had been there. That night had been a bit of a blur.

SpongeBob smiled, but it managed to make him look even sadder somehow. “They wouldn’t have recognized you. Last time they visited, they thought Patrick was a piece of luggage, and I’ve known him since we were kids.”

Squidward flinched. _Ouch._

“I just called them and… and it kinda came out that there is someone in my life, and then mom got excited about it, and she said they’d come over to meet my girlfriend – I didn’t say anything about that someone being a _girlfriend_ – and then they were already on their way and maybe I panicked a bit.”

Squidward nodded. His own Mama could be a handful, but she had always supported his choices in partners and consoled him during the inevitable breakups. When he was a kid, their house had been a safe haven for him and his crushes, most of which had parents who didn’t like their sons fooling around with some lanky pimply octopus boy.

He had taken it for granted that his mother was fine with her boy liking boys. SpongeBob hadn’t been as lucky as him. _What a strange thought._

“Why not take them to Sandy’s? She would’ve helped you out, and she already wears a skirt.”

“Introduce them to a land mammal?”

Oh, yeah, she was a squirrel. Squidward found her strange for so many other reasons - _Who likes country music unironically? Note to self, introduce her to Otto_ \- he forgot sometimes that it would give some sea creatures pause that she was from ashore.

“They’re not bad sponges, they’re just very traditional,” SpongeBob said. Squidward must’ve looked angry or something, the way SpongeBob felt like he had to defend his parents. “If I actually was with Sandy they’d be happy about that… eventually. But this way, it just would’ve made Sandy mad.” Squidward understood SpongeBob’s reasoning. Why make the lie more complicated, when he could just run over to his neighbor and present his parents with a seemingly respectable choice of partner, a sea creature in a dress.

“I didn’t say they were bad sponges.” Squidward wasn’t sure if they were or not, but he wasn’t going to question SpongeBob any further; he already looked miserable enough. “I’m sure they’d accept you if you said that you… you know? Liked someone who isn’t a _her_.”

“Why are you sure?” SpongeBob asked. “I’m not sure they’d accept it and I’ve known them longer than you.”

Squidward suddenly gained a little glimpse into why the sponge was the way he was. Sure, the octopus knew what it was like to be a weird kid, and his mother had gotten frustrated with him more than once in his childhood, maybe yelled at him too often, but she had never, ever been distant. If SpongeBob didn’t know his parents well enough to know how they’d react, then they probably didn’t know him that well, either. As an adult, SpongeBob had to build a loving family from scratch, with friends, and neighbors, and coworkers; with people who were as weird as a sponge who couldn’t sit still and liked to kiss octopus boys.

Squidward couldn’t think of an answer to SpongeBob’s question, because he wasn’t sure at all. So he hugged him instead. The sponge immediately clung to him like a starfish to their favorite rock. _I guess he can sit still if it means being stuck to me._ The octopus patted him on the back.

“You know best what you want to tell them or not. Don’t listen to me. I’m just talking out of my halibut.” He felt SpongeBob’s shoulders twitch and heard a giggle. SpongeBob loved bad puns. As long as they weren’t about octopuses being handsy. “But maybe don’t lie and say you’re seeing someone. You’re clearly not as adept as me at lying.”

“I didn’t lie, actually. I… I told them there was someone I was in love with. That’s the truth.” SpongeBob squeezed Squidward a little bit tighter when he said that. “And then my mom took it from there and invited herself.”

Squidward wasn’t going to say anything about that first part SpongeBob had said, the being-in-love part. The declaration had dropped a massive bolder into his stomach, but their conversation wasn’t about that right now. “Well, she jumped the shark on that one. I can see where you get your over-eagerness from.”

“Heh.” SpongeBob sat back when the hug ended and smiled, his face still mostly sad but a little bit happier than before.

“So, can I take this off now?” Squidward pointed at the outfit he was still wearing.

That made SpongeBob smile a bit more. “Sure, Squidward.”

“Good!” He took off the wig and threw it in the back of the closet. “You put a bra on me that has not been my size since freshmen year.” He lowered the straps of the dress and opened the latch on his back with practiced ease. As if to prove his remark, the tension from the latch torpedoed the bra off his body and through his bedroom wall.

SpongeBob watched the bra fly by, then looked back at Squidward. “Why do you have so many bras and dresses?”

Squidward might’ve been offended if someone else had asked him that question. But there was no hint of accusation or judgement in SpongeBob’s voice; he just sounded curious. Another thing that seemed to make him different from other sponges. _That apple fell so far from the tree that it turned out to be a pineapple,_ Squidward thought.

Truth was, Squidward had always liked dressing up, whether it be clothes for boys or girls. It was the fun of acting like you’re someone else that appealed to him. When he was little his mother had caught him put on her expensive makeup and she’d said “Well, flounder me, if you like makeup so much I’ll get you some, but don’t waste mine!”

Over the years she’d gifted her young son many dress-up clothes, for his birthdays and on holidays, until he had amassed a whole chest of costumes. Whenever he’d wear a fancy boy’s outfit, he’d be his mom’s “spiffy little man”. When he put on a dress, she would call him her “pretty Squiddy”.

Squidward might tell SpongeBob that story another time. Right at this moment he just answered the way he’d done with ex-lovers who had asked the same question. “I’m a complex individual, SpongeBob. You can’t put me in a box.”

“What about the time you put yourself in a box to play racecar driver?”

He should’ve known SpongeBob would destroy his watertight argument.

“You’re a box, SpongeBob. Time to go home.” He didn’t say it, but movie night was not going to happen tonight. He had things to think about.

“Awww…” But SpongeBob got up like a good neighbor and they went downstairs together after Squidward had shimmied out of the dress. When SpongeBob was about to walk through the front door, he turned around one more time.

“Oh, speaking of boxes! I almost forgot,” SpongeBob handed Squidward a polaroid picture. “I told Patrick he couldn’t keep it in his Secret Box.” SpongeBob looked over at the sea star’s house, before leaning towards Squidward and whispering, “I think it might be a box of blackmail, actually.”

Squidward looked at what he assumed was the photo of him naked at his bathroom window. It was just a blur and he could make out nothing. It only showed a dark grey wall - the outside of his house –half the picture covered by a big, pink paw. “I should keep this to blackmail Patrick. ’Pay me or I’ll show everyone that you can’t take a decent picture.’”

That made SpongeBob laugh. _Good_ , Squidward thought.

“Thank you, Squidward. For helping me out with my parents.”

“I didn’t really help. It ended pretty badly, remember?”

“No, I mean… after they left.”

Squidward felt bad for the little square. “Why did you call your parents at all? You don’t seem close.” Maybe that question was too personal? But then again, Squidward was standing in front of SpongeBob in nothing but a pink underslip and a pair of earrings, so who could he ask personal questions if not this guy?

SpongeBob blushed. “I heard you at work when you talked to your mom and… it seemed fun. I just wanted to try it out, too. Now I feel kinda stupid.”

Squidward’s hearts broke into tiny little pieces. SpongeBob had managed to build himself a decent sized family, but it was missing something.

“Next weekend I’m going over to visit Mama. Wanna come?”

“…really?”

“Sure. She hasn’t seen you since we took that family picture together.”

SpongeBob clearly wanted to say yes, but… “What if she asks about us being together? Or… not together?” He looked worried. “I think I’m done with romantic comedy clichés, too.”

Ah, yes. Squidward actually hadn’t told his mother yet that he wasn’t dating the sponge. He would have to do that before they visited her.

“I’ll sort it out. Plus, she won’t ask about details. She probably wants to talk about her macrame. Yawn! Doesn’t she know knitting is where it’s at?”

SpongeBob giggled. “I’d love to come.” SpongeBob legs grew long to be at the perfect height to hug a standing Squidward and kiss him on the nose.

SpongeBob hadn’t kissed Squidward on the nose since _that night_. It had been so long.

SpongeBob’s hug had pinned Squidward’s arms tightly against his torso, so he had to use one of his legs to grab the sponge’s lanky limbs one by one and unwrap himself like a mummy covered in yellow bandages. What made it even less comfortable was standing in his doorway almost naked. _Why did SpongeBob put lacy underwear on me? Not for his parents’ benefit._ SpongeBob didn’t resist the untangling at all, but also didn’t remove his face from Squidward’s chest. “Go home, you clingy little barnacle. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“And on the weekend!”

“Yes.”

“Am I going to meet your dad, too?”

 _Let’s leave those worms in their can for now, shall we?_ Squidward thought. “Don’t push it, Sponge.” He closed the door in SpongeBob’s face – it was rude, but also a hard habit to shake. The sponge had cheered up enough that he could handle it.

Squidward went over to his phone and pushed the auto-dial button, sitting down on the sofa. “Hi, Mama. No, I’m not cancelling again! I just wanted to tell you that…” He fiddled with the telephone cord and felt shy all of a sudden. Like he was a teenage boy again. He looked down at his lacy underslip. Maybe like a teenage girl.

_Come on, pretty Squiddy, tell her!_

“I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squidward has decided they’re boyfriends now. Maybe one day he’ll inform SpongeBob about it.
> 
> Comment if you liked it! <3


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